Things Forgotten
by ForeverWriting
Summary: Hermione has forgotten everything about her past, until she meets a mysterious stranger, who helps her find out who she really is.... PLEASE R&R! I suck at summaries!
1. Chapter One

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am just using JK Rowlings fabulous ideas to write a fanfic.

Authors Note: I hope you all like this fanfic. It is something I think may happen, or could to Hermione. I think you should all enjoy it and please, please Read and Reveiw. I don't care if you think it's crap(I hope you don't!), just tell me what you think. I will write another chapter as soon as I can, if you want me to. Well, enough talk, here it is! (Da Da Da Da!)

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**Things Forgotten **

**Chapter One**

Hermione Granger lay still as she listened to the sounds of the morning: the birds singing outside, the kettle whistling in the kitchen, and her fiancées creaking footsteps in the hall. The brass doorknob turned and she sat upright.

"Shh," he said, "go back to sleep, this is your day. You shouldn't be up." She looked at him. His brown hair was still messy from sleep and the bags under his eyes showed he hadn't gotten much.

"Chris, I have a job," she answered, and swung her legs over the side of the bed. The floorboards creaked as she padded across them. Hermione kissed softly him on the cheek and walked out of the bedroom and into the bright kitchen. The light poured in on the countertop, making it shine. She stood for a moment, watching the light dance across it. The light triggered a memory, a memory about a bright flash, followed by a cry of despair. But before she could think about it anymore, she came to, and pushed the memory aside. Hermione grabbed her hot coffee and sat down at the table. She tucked a lock of her thick, curly brown hair behind her ear and started reading the daily news.

"You should really take the day off," Chris said interrupting her, and as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

"Just because it is my birthday doesn't mean that's an excuse for me to stop working," she snapped.

"Fine, fine, but I think that you deserve a break. You're always helping people; you need to find time to pamper yourself."

"Chris, I really appreciate it, but I can't. I love my job," Hermione answered, not telling him the real reason she didn't want to be alone for a day.

"Ok, if you insist. Just promise you won't be late for supper?" he asked with a hopeful expression.

"I promise," she replied with a grin, but she quickly looked away, fearing he would see her worry in her smile.

* * *

"Early this morning people all over London claimed to have seen green meteors fall down from the heavens and red lighting, which appeared slightly after. Mary Jenison of northwest London told UKN: "I was outside for a jog, and I looked in the sky, and there they were, green meteors. Maybe 'bout ten fell down. I didn't see where, some trees were blockin' my view. Then the lightin' came, 13 flashes. I stood there after, and looked around, but nothin' else came. It happened so quickly I swore I could've been dreamin' the whole thing." Was she? Tune in to UKN at 6:00 to find out and hear more meteor and lighting viewers speak out."

"Rubbish," Hermione said trying to push away the feeling that she had heard about, or even seen this before.And that somehow, somewhere, this could be a matter of life and death. She turned off her radio as she pulled her car into the parking lot and walked into the cool office, taking off her coat, and hanging it up.

"Morning, Hermione," her secretary, Jen, said with a cheerful grin.

"Morning Jen. Did you hear about that nonsense on the news about the meteors and the lighting? Wild stories people make up these days."

"Oh, yes I heard. Everyone's talking about it. When will people stop backing these things up? Next they'll be saying dragons are flying over London," she laughed. Hermione joined in, but the eerie feeling came back, and her laughter faltered.

"Well, then, when is my first patient coming?" she asked the secretary.

"In about thirty minutes," Jen replied, looking at her clipboard. She walked over to a grey filing cabinet, pulled open a drawer, and grabbed a thin file.

"Here you go," she said and handed it to her.

"Thanks." Hermione replied and walked to her desk to look through the file. She concentrated on her work, trying to distract herself somehow from it, but the feeling would not leave her.

* * *

"SURPRISE!" everyone shouted as she entered the beige break room for lunch. Hermione stood there in shock.

"Wow. This _is_ a surprise," she stammered. The laughter swallowed her as she made her way over to a group of nurses.

"Happy Birthday, Hermione," Shari said happily and hugged her.

"Thanks guys. This is really nice of you," she responded.

"You deserve it; you are always working those extra hours." Wendy piped in.

"Mmhmm," Tanya said as she pursed her thin lips, "We were glad too do this."

"Still, thank you so much," she said and hugged them. The small, bright, break room was packed with people, but Hermione felt very empty in it. The feeling kept haunting her thoughts and making her feel small, and incomplete. Why couldn't she remember? She couldn't escape it, or her thoughts that followed it. She barely noticed as she talked to friends and colleagues. The sweet, creamy frosting tasted like sand in her mouth and the laughter just sounded like an annoying buzz.

"You know, you really should take the rest of the day off," Greg said as they sat talking towards the end of the lunch hour.

"You should," Janet replied, her grey eyes piercing Hermione.

"You must," Parker insisted. Everyone averted there attention to her, wondering what she'd do. She sat on the couch, considering it. She knew she was feeling terrible, and yet she didn't want to leave. She didn't want to be stuck with that feeling, but yet, she wanted to feel it and to figure out what it meant. And so she agreed.

* * *

Hermione drove around the streets trying to figure out what to do. She didn't want to listen to the radio for fear of hearing about the meteors and the lightning. She didn't want to eat anything, even though her stomach was aching with hunger. So she found herself driving about, looking for a place to go, and something to do. All the while, her mind racing about what the feeling meant.

Hermione parked her car next to the curb and opened the door. She stepped onto the dark pavement and made her way to the store at the end of the street. The dresses in the windows were magnificent: bright red, shimmering gold, and deep blue fabrics were made into wonderful gowns. Purses of all shapes and sizes adorned the manikins' hands. Delicate shoes were on their feet. Millions of dollars of diamonds draped there necks, wrists, and ears. Yet, she didn't notice them. The feeling was consuming her thoughts. Where had she seen a meteor like that before? When did red lightning strike in the past? What did they mean? Who was in trouble? _Was _anyone in trouble? She tried to remember but failed, again, to come up with anything. It was as if something, or someone didn't want her to remember. Hermione turned around frustrated. This was driving her insane. If only something would trigger her memory. As she thought these things, she hurriedly walked back to her car. And was not paying attention as she ran into a figure. A figure that wore a tattered maroon sweater, and had bright-red hair.

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	2. Chapter Two

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, or Harry Potter related places, people. etc.

Authors Note: Thanks to everyone who reviewed! The more you reveiw the more I know to keep writing and to write _faster_. I know that sounds really cheesy, but it's true! Sorry this chapter took a little long to come out, I was at my friend's cottage for a week, and have been working on it day and night since I returned. Sadly, the next chapter won't be coming out any faster. I am going to camp for two weeks, but after that I swear that the chapters will come flying out. Anyways, I changed the format of this chapter, I think it helps the story "flow" better. Okay that's all, and I hope you like this next installment in my fanfic!**  
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Things Forgotten  
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**Chapter Two  
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The cup of coffee flew in the air. It turned upside down and landed all over the mans' maroon sweater as his papers and books landed on the sidewalk

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry, really. Here, let me get those," Hermione said, reaching for the man's scattered papers and leather-bound books.

"No!" he exclaimed, and she stopped to peer at him, wondering why he didn't want her near his things. She noticed that he had the reddest hair she'd every seen and hundreds of freckles. Something about him made her stomach lurch, in a not-so-unpleasant manner.

"I mean, just, I can get those," he mumbled and grabbed them up quickly.

"Oh, okay…" Hermione murmured. He seemed oddly familiar to her, she just couldn't figure out where she had seen him before. The office, maybe, he could've brought his child in… No, no, he would've said something; parents always do that, thanking her for helping Billy's cough or Susie's ear infection or giving her an update on their child. Maybe it was in the store, or on the bus….but she didn't have time to ponder it any longer, because he was turning to leave.

"Wait! Wait, I feel really bad about this. Um… just, just let me pay for your dry cleaning," she insisted.

"No, no, that's okay…" the man said and turned again.

"Well…, then at least let me buy you a new coffee. Please? I just feel awful."

"Okay, I suppose," he answered.

"Great!" she replied smiling. She actually didn't feel _that_ awful about walking into him and spilling his coffee. She probably wouldn't have bought him anything if he didn't seem so familiar. He smiled back and turned to walk into the coffee shop they were in front of and Hermione followed obediently, eager to find out who this red-headed stranger was, and where she'd seen him before.

* * *

It was one of those dead-air awkward silences. The kind that is stiff and quiet. The kind where there isn't anything to distract you from it. The kind where you know you should say something, you want to say something, but whatever you think of sounds dorky, or too formal, or too upfront. Then as you don't talk, and the silence grows it gets harder and harder to actually say anything. Hermione was in this silence, and she knew she had to break it if she was to find out who this was. 

"So, what are those for?" she asked casually, pointing towards the books on the table in front of them.

"Oh…um…just, there just for my work," he stuttered, and took a sip of his coffee as they sat.

"Oh, so, what do you do?"

"Do?" he asked puzzled.

"Your job."

"Oh, yes, my job…," the man said with a worried look on his face, "Well, I…I'm with the government."

"Really?" she asked excitedly, "That sounds fascinating, tell me more."

The man's worried expression grew, and then he finally muttered, "Oh, no, it's terribly boring…tell me about your job."

"Oh, okay, well mines not very exciting either, I'm a pediatrician."

"So, you like kids?"

"Love, them," Hermione answered happily.

"Oh, me too. Do you have any?"

"No, I can't…I'm not married…"she said, and took her left hand off the table. Hermione didn't know why she did this, but she did know that she didn't put her hand back on the table, or let him see that hand, especially a certain finger on it.

* * *

"Oh, look at the time!" Hermione exclaimed interrupting him. 

"What?" he asked puzzled.

"I, really have to go, I'm terribly late…" she said, picking up her purse from the table that was now littered with empty coffee cups and crumpled up napkins.

"Oh okay then…It was really nice talking to you."

"Yes, it was…um, what's your name? I don't think I ever found that out," she asked as she quickly put on her gloves and jacket.

"Oh, it's Ron Wea…. It's…It's Ron Wealison," Ron stuttered nervously.

"Well, goodbye Ron Wealison," she said and turned to leave.

"Wait!" he called, but she didn't hear, she was already out the door. Hermione walked to her car, with a hint of sadness. She didn't want to leave; they were having such a good time talking and she liked watching him talk, or she thought, she just liked looking at him, but she pushed that out of her mind. She had really just wanted to keep on talking to him, and too find out more about him. She wasn't sure why she was so intrigued by him, other than the fact that he was so oddly familiar. So familiar that she was sure she had had many conversations like the one they had just exchanged with him before. She just didn't know when, or where. Hermione opened her car door, with her mind just as troubled as before, except now it was troubled by a completely different feeling. A feeling that was incredibly different, but incredibly familiar. A feeling she wasn't sure if she had ever experienced before. A feeling that makes your head light and your stomach sick. A feeling of love.

* * *

Hermione did love her fiancée. At least, she thought she did. Chris was always so kind to her, he listened to her talk, gave her good advice, he was sweet and a romantic, plus her parents adored him, and not to mention, he was great kisser. What more could she want? She enjoyed his company, and she knew that he was perfect for her; at least she thought he was. She'd know Chris forever; they met in pre-med school. Hermione was in the library burying her head in a book and Chris was trying to find his way to the administration office. He had just transferred colleges and was finding his way around campus. He had noticed her, and sat down to wait until she was done reading to ask her where the office was, trying to be polite. Hermione didn't notice him though and was in the library reading until it closed. Only when she was asked to leave did she see him. She thought he was cute; he had baby-blue eyes, short brown hair, and smooth, tan skin. Something about him was special, only she didn't know what. She was nervous to say anything, and began to gather her books. Then, he smiled at her, and they immediately hit it off. They dated through all of pre-med school and med-school. Then after graduation he proposed. She had to say yes, he was just so…so, right for her. She just knew he was…she hoped he was. Now, they were living together, and planning their wedding. Hermione was happy when she was around him. She always had fun with him and nothing about him annoyed her, or made her mad. So he had to be the one. Even if she didn't feel fluttery around him, or think about him day and night, he had to be her soul mate. He was her soul mate; at least, that's what she convinced herself.

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	3. Chapter Three

Disclaimer: JK Rowling Harry Potter. Me My Stories

Authors Note: First off, SORRY! This has taken forever, and I know that. Sadly, these should only be coming out a little faster. School is hectic, and until I get back into the "flow" of it, I am going to have to put more time towards it. But, soon I will be getting these out faster, and I know that I can get them out faster by how much you review. If I get one review, I will still update, but I won't be spending all my waking time on it. If I get three I'll be working harder to get it out. You catch my drift? Okay, sweet. Well, I am very excited about this chapter, and the next. Which I think you'll see why once you finish. Oh! and the lines won't appear for some reason, so I'm improvising with **oOo** those. They're NOT some wierd symbol. Well, I'll stop talking now, so you can read it: Enjoy!

**Things Forgotten  
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**Chapter Three**

"Hermione! Is that you?" Chris cried from the kitchen. She took a few deep breaths to calm herself as she heard his footsteps coming towards her.

"It's me! Sorry I'm so late, I got caught-up in some traffic coming back from work," she said, reciting the line perfectly, just like she had practiced in the car

"Oh…" he said, with a confused look on his face as he came around the corner.

"What?"

"Well, it's just, on the news they said there wasn't any traffic on the way you usually come home, but maybe it was bad when you were on the highway five minutes later. Oh that's it I'm sure," he replied sarcastically.

"Could we be any more immature, Chris?" she asked angrily, wondering why he was acting this way.

"And could we be any more of a liar!" he shouted, his voice ringing in the open air.

"I did not lie! I **did** get caught up in traffic over on 5th Street!" Hermione retaliated not realizing she had just made a terrible mistake.

"What were you doing on 5th Street?" he asked suspiciously his eyes narrowing and shining red with anger. She refrained from speaking, trying to think of what to say to get her out of this mess, trying to think of what to tell him so she wouldn't have to talk about Ron.

"Well?" he asked impatiently his eyes now throwing flames at her. She looked down, not responding.

"Is it that bad that you can't tell me?" he questioned, his voice now soft with a hint of sadness in it, and his eyes back to there normal color. "I thought we could trust each other with anything, Hermione. What did you do? Did you cheat on me?"

"No!" she exclaimed, surprised that he would suggest that, "I would never do that Chris, and you know it. If you really must know I was meeting…a friend, and we just got caught up in talking, so I forgot the time."

"Okay," Chris said, though she could tell, he wasn't completely sure of her story, "just, which friend was it?" She didn't have an answer, and she new she couldn't tell him about Ron. She just felt that it wasn't right for Chris to know about him. She felt like Chris wouldn't want her to meet him, wouldn't want her to find out about him, but she knew she had to. She had to find out where she'd seen him before, and she wanted to see him again, to talk to him, to look at him, to be with him…

"It was just a friend, you don't know them," she said, and walked past him to bed. As she tried later that night to fall asleep, she couldn't get a certain someone out of her head or a certain feeling outside of her heart.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo****oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

_Dear Hermione, _

_ Left for work early, won't be back for dinner. _

_ Yours Truly, _

_ Chris _

She read the note and took it off the counter to put in the trash when something on the back caught her attention, an image, actually it was an indentation. It looked so odd to her, so familiar, and so terrifying, even if she couldn't see it all. She had to find out what it was; she was getting that feeling again, and knew it wouldn't go away until she found out what this was. So she took a pencil and lightly rubbed it over the paper. All of a sudden a memory came into her mind: "Oh no, he's been here. We're too late…" a sad voice woman's said. "No, he can't have been..." she heard herself saying. "He was, he was...all hope is lost," the women said again tragically, and the memory faded, but the words – all hope is lost- stayed as Hermione stared at the image. Those words were perfect to describe what she felt when she saw it, but also confusion was there too. She **knew** she'd seen this before, and she **knew** it meant something horrible, something that could turn away all hope… Hermione took her eyes away from it, not bearing to see it anymore, and careful tucked the paper into her coat pocket. All on her way to work she couldn't stop thinking about it. What does it mean? Why does it cause everyone to have no hope? And why is it a _snake_ coming out of a _skull_?

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo****oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

"Well, that's all for today. Here's a sucker for you Timmy and here's the medical information. Let me know if anything else happens, or if you have any concerns," Hermione said as she usher the happy mother into the hall.

"Oh yes, I will be sure too. Thanks again for helping us out on such short notice," the mother replied.

"No problem, that's my job," she said and turned the corner. She rested her head up against the wall, and breathed a sigh on relief. She could leave! Hermione smiled to herself, happy that she would soon being seeing Ron again. She had looked up his number during her break, and arranged to him meet at 3:00 at the same coffee shop. After the morning's and last nights events, she had to talk to someone about it; sure she could've talked to a colleague, but she _wanted_, needed to see Ron. And she knew that he would be the only one that would really understand. Why though, she had no idea…

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo****oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Hermione drove down the street, determined to figure out what the image meant, and why it was on the back of her note. The note that had come from Chris… The same Chris who had acted very strange last night. The Chris whose eyes looked they had flames in them when she mentioned the friend. The Chris who had fought with her, but it was the same one who never had a fight with her, even raised his voice at her, before that night. The one who always believed her. The Chris she knew everything about… Hermione shook her head trying to rid the thoughts, trying to convince herself that Chris wasn't doing anything strange. That he was just worried. That he wasn't suddenly acting very weird, right after she met Ron, after the meteors and the lighting, and after the feelings started…but she couldn't ponder it anymore, because she was pulling up to the coffee shop and she could see and mop of red hair inside.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo****oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

"Hi again. Is everything alright, you sounded a bit worried on the phone," Ron said as he handed her a steaming cup of coffee.

"Well, not exactly…" she replied.

"What? What's wrong?"

"Let's sit then I'll explain," Hermione answered and they found a table in the back corner. She took a sip from the coffee, and then continued. "Before I tell you, and sorry that I'm putting off what's wrong but this is part of it. Anyways, I just need to know, if you've ever seen this before, and could tell me what it means," she said and pulled out the paper laying it out on the table in front of him. Then he did something she never expected him to do. Ron grabbed her hand, and hastily led her out of the building, into his car and then he drove. He didn't utter a word, and had turned ghastly looking. It was only when some color had returned to his face, and they were a good 10 minutes away from any civilization before he asked, in a voice so wrapped in worry and fear that she couldn't help but shiver:

"Where did you get this?"


	4. Chapter Four

Disclaimer: Do I really need to put this anymore???

Author's Note: Well, it came out a smidgen faster...yeah, sad excuse, I know, but to make up for it, I am going to put out Chapter Five, within three days! Oh yeah, that should change your mind about me right? Okay, probably not much but it helps!!! Is anyone else as busy as me? I would just like to know that, please comment if you are! I have so much stuff going on crew, practices, school, food, sleep, drink, etc. etc. It is all very tiring! Plus, I really need a laptop. Actually I do have one, it just is broken - : ( So re-phrase, I need a _working_ laptop! It stinks to try to fight siblings for the computer, when you actually have time to get on!...Okay, I am officially done rambling. This is not why you are reading this. Do people even read this? I don't know...okay sorry, rambling again. I'll just cut to the chase: Chapter Four.**  
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**Things Forgotten  
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**Chapter Four **

She sat there for a second, try to decipher whether he was actually talking, or if she had just imagined it.

"Hermione, where did you get this?" he said again, a little louder, so she knew that he _was _actually speaking.

"Oh sorry, it was on the back of a piece of paper at my apartment," she replied.

"It was drawn out on this paper lying right out in the open?" he asked questioningly, trying to find out more information.

"Well, no, it was actually an indentation on the paper. It looked so strange, not just your normal scribbles or word, but actually a picture. So, I rubbed a pencil over it, and there it was. It's really odd isn't it?"

"Odd? Well, odd is one way to put it…" Ron mumbled. He was silent for a long time and she could see that he was concentrating hard on what to say.

"Hermione, what do you feel when you see this?"

"Well…" she wasn't sure what to tell him. Would he laugh if she told him the truth? No, he wouldn't, she thought to herself; look at how he acted when _he_ saw it. But then again, maybe he thought she was going crazy, showing him random pictures. She thought this over again, and again. If she told him how she felt, she knew he would either believe her, or think she was going crazy. Only one way to find out...

"I feel horrible. I feel like all hope is gone, lost forever. I feel like something terrible has happened, I KNOW something has. I feel like I've seen this before, but I just don't know where. I feel… I feel like this is important part of my past, which I've forgotten."

"Really?" he asked suspiciously. Hermione twisted her hands together, nervous that he thought she was going insane, or would laugh in her face, but eventually she nodded slowly.

"Good. This is very good. You're starting to remember."

"Remember what?"

"Your past."

She looked at him questioningly and asked, "What? I already know everything about my past. How can I start to remember what I already know?"

Ron let out a slow, long breath. As if telling getting ready for a long explanation, an explanation she was quite ready for.

"Do you-" he started, but then a frightened look overcame his face and he asked, "Did you draw that picture?"

"No, I already told you, it was an indentation," she said slowly wondering why he suddenly changed subjects.

"Who lives with you?" he asked. Not like he was angry, or suspicious, but like he was _sad _and _scared_, like he knew that this was coming but hoped strongly that it wouldn't.

"How do you know I live with someone?"

"Who lives with you?" he asked more sternly this time.

"Just my fiancé, Chris, but he wouldn't have anything to do with this," Hermione replied.

"You're wrong," Ron answered quietly; "he is the reason for all of this."

* * *

"No no no no no. He isn't." 

"Yes he is," Ron said.

"No… No, He can't be. How? Why?" she asked sadly, holding her head in her hands.

"I… I can't tell you."

"Then who can?" Hermione questioned, as they pulled onto a dirt drive.

"The person who lives here," he replied and stopped the car.

She looked up again and saw…nothing. Well, not _nothing_ exactly, just not anything of importance. No houses. No buildings. No wires. No trace of civilization, nothing. Just trees, upon, trees, upon trees.

"Ron…," she said as he opened his door, "no one lives here. There is nothing here. It's a forest." He didn't say anything, just turned around and smiled, and then he disappeared into the dense woods. She sighed and pushed herself up from her seat, quickly hurrying ahead trying to follow him.

* * *

"I think it's getting dark," Hermione said, after they'd been walking for awhile, but still he said nothing, he just continued walking. She was getting nervous; it was at least 3 hours since she'd left work, 2 and a half since she'd seen any sign of civilization. Ron wasn't talking, and he was leading her into a dark, cold forest… Oh gosh, what am I thinking? She thought. Why am I here? How do I know that he's not leading me here, to attack and kill me, and then probably eat me because, lets face it, who is really going to walk back in the dark? She had to find out what was going on. 

Hermione took in a deep breath and called out, "Ron, what is going on?" No response.

"Where are we going, who are we looking for?" Still no reply.

"Fine, that's it! I am stopping right here until yo-"

"Wait," he whispered, grabbing her hand. She could feel her heartbeat in her chest and his in her hand. "Don't move."

"Wh-" she started, but was cut off by his plea for quiet. She watched her breathe go out and form a mass of white as she listened to the forest. The crickets chirps were long gone, but the faint hoot of an owl, and the skitter of animals scampering about filled her ears. After what seemed like an hour, she heard it. The faint whistle of wind, as an object raced towards them. It grew louder and louder until Ron reached up his hand and caught whatever was coming at them. She looked in his hand to see... a broom.

Hermione snorted, "How is _that_ suppose to help us?

"Well," he replied happily, "it's our ride." Her face fell with astonishment, and she took in a quick breath. She was sure her face was as white as a sheet too. Ron laughed and continued, "You never did like flying...but anyways, just put one leg over and hold on..." She obeyed silently, although she wasn't quite sure why, and they took off into the crisp night air.

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	5. Chapter Five

Disclaimer: See past 4 chapters

Authors Note: Well, my goal has been accomplished! Yes, in three days after I put Chapter Four out, I have gotten Chapter Five out. I hope everyone is very excited. I know I am. Thanks to everyone who's reveiwed so far, its always nice to know that people read and enjoy my writing and that I'm not just going on and on about something just to have no one read it. Anyways, I am very excited about this chapter, it'll have some twists and I am sorry most questions will not be answered, but fear not! Chapter Six will be HUGE in the sense of things that'll be told. Well, enough talking, read on.

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**Things Forgotten**

**Chapter Five**

She clutched him harder as they took a sharp turn. Hermione was sure they'd been riding for hours, and her face and hands were red and chapped. Her stomach wasn't doing so hot either… She again closed her eyes as the dipped beneath the clouds, to do a routine check on where they were, praying that this would soon be over. As they came back up she replayed the days past events. The note, the picture, Ron's reaction, her new-found past, the drive to the woods, the person who would tell her everything and that supposedly lived in the forest…

"Um…Ron," she said looking up a little, "why _did _you tell me that the person lived in the forest. They obviously don't…"

He turned around, smiled that smile that she adored, and answered, "Would you've followed me in otherwise?"

"I see your point," she replied and closed her eyes again, basking in her happiness. Even if she had no idea where she was going, and she _flying_ on a _broom_ at least she was with Ron. She snuggled up against him thinking of this, and very slowly drifted off to sleep.

* * *

A soft ray of light pushed its way over the horizon, slowly spreading its radiance over the earth. Hermione shifted around and awoke, blinking a few times to get her eyes adjusted. 

"Good sleep?" Ron questioned, turning to her. She smiled at him, nodding happily. She was glad to be with him as always.

"So," she said rubbing her eyes, "are we going to meet this mystery person soon?"

"Yes, actually we'll be there in about ten minutes…," he answered tightening his grip, "if we fly fast." Hermione tried to scream, but her voice got caught in her throat, and her stomach's contents began to make their way up. She quickly closed her mouth and her eyes, and settled down, hearing the air whiz past her, and feeling the speed push hair straight back. She silently counted the seconds and soon they slowly started their descent. Then, with a soft thud, they land on the stable earth. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief when her feet hit the ground. She got off of the broom and slowly walked around. Stretching her limbs, she looked up and gasped, for a man with jet black hair had just appeared out of thin air.

* * *

"Hey, sorry we didn't give you a lot of warning, but I was not expecting that to happen," Ron said friendly, hugging the man with great warmth. 

"It's okay I've learned to expect the unexpected," the man replied grinning. Hermione sat watching all of this with bewilderment. Sure, she thought, I should be used to crazy things with first finding I had a secret past, and riding on a broom, but the secret past could be amnesia and the broom could be a weird rocket pro-type…

"Hermione," Ron said interrupting her thoughts, "we really need to get out of the open." She walked forward to Ron and the stranger and he reached out his hand. She shook it politely and he began to speak.

"Hello Hermione," the man, who she just noticed had brilliant green eyes, said, "I'm Harry, now this is all a bit odd for you I understand, but just do as I say, and you'll be fine. First off, you must pass through a portal to get into the secret world which I came from. There we shall talk, no where else. Now to enter this world, you must walk into that rock with a completely open mind, as if the rock wasn't there, and you were just strolling along. You don't think it's possible, and I don't blame you. Just watch me, and I think you'll understand. Okay? Good. Here I go." Harry then turned and walked, just like he said, through the rock, and disappeared.

"You ready Hermione?" Ron asked.

"I think so," she replied, still a bit confused about… everything

"Just have an open mind. That is the most important thing. You'll be fine."

"Okay, thanks," she answered and started walking forward slowly, trying to rid her mind of the thoughts that were telling her how crazy this was.

"You better run Hermione," he said. She turned towards him unsure, but he smiled and she knew she'd be fine. So, with a nod she nervously ran towards the rock. She'd be there in three…two…one…

* * *

"Ron, nothing happened. Did I do something wrong?" she asked disheartened, turning around, "Ron, Ron? Where are you?" She turned around again, scanning her eyes everywhere for him. Where was he? She thought. He _has_ to be here; I'm in the same place as I was before…but then why isn't he here? 

"Ron…" she called out in a voice slightly above a whisper.

"Yes Hermione," he said, standing right next to her.

"Don't do that!" she exclaimed, "hiding from me, only to scare me half to death! I thought you'd died! And that stupid rock doesn't work!"

"What?"

"Ugh, now what are we going to do!?" Hermione said, walking about in frustration, "That Harry guy is long gone! We're stuck!"

"Wait, wait, breath Hermione, let me explain. First, I wasn't hiding. Second, the rock does work. Third, yes I know it does look exactly the same. This is so that anyone who shouldn't have passed through will be confused and hopefully not continue looking for the hideout."

"Well, that does make sense," she replied, suddenly feeling very embarrassed, "sorry about freaking out over that."

"I understand, this happens a lot to newcomers. Now, shall we?" he asked sweeping his arm in front of them, inviting her on.

"We shall," she answered happily.

* * *

"Why is there so much traveling involved?" Hermione asked Harry, whom they had now caught up to. 

"Mostly to make it harder for people who shouldn't be here, not to be here," he answered pushing aside a branch.

"Okay, but are _we_ going to have to travel much further?"

"Actually, we don't have to travel any further at all" he replied stopping. Then he proceeded to turn and walk over to a tree. He tapped on a series of knots and grooves in the trunk and then stepped back. The gray bark melted away to reveal a large silver door which had a great keyhole in the middle. Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny silver key. He laid it sideways in the slot and a voice box appeared. After whispering something into it, the door opened. Then he turned around with a grin on his face and said,

"Welcome Hermione to D.A. Headquarters."

* * *


	6. Chapter Six

Author's Note: Got rid of disclaimer because, hey if you're reading chapter six before 1, 2 ,3, 4, or 5, then you're wierd. I hope I got this out a bit faster, I tried! I wanted to get it our last weekend, but we had an essay due for school so that put me behind... Anyways, I hope you like Chapter Six and that it explains some things. Enjoy!!!

**Things Forgotten**

**Chapter Six**

Hermione gobbled up the feast of all of the potatoes, meat, soup, stews, bread, pastas, casseroles, and salads imaginable. She didn't realize how hungry she was until she actually remembered she'd hadn't eaten in two days. As she swallowed the creamy soup, she looked around. It didn't look at all like what she expected…she expected some secret room, hidden behind trap doors or magic spells, or a large cement room with an interrogation table. But it wasn't at all like that; it actually was, well, the inside of a house. They entered into a large, lavishly painted foyer. Then they made there way down the hallway, which, thankfully was not as gaudy as the entrance. It just was a simple sage, with old, weathered wooden floors. The hallway also had tons of doors. Hermione couldn't imagine why they'd need so many, actually, she could, but she just did not want to know. The names - Warts and Boils Treatment, Dementors, and Invisible Creatures (Must be with/be a certified invisibility handler) – gave her enough to imagine. They eventually reached the end, which led to a spiraling downwards staircase. At the bottom was the kitchen, and through a door, was the dining room where they currently were. The kitchen was the basic kitchen: stove, pantry, etc. Except there were double everything. She didn't think much of it, until she entered the dining room, where there was a table that could seat 30 at least. This was odd enough, but the really odd thing was that she hadn't seen anyone. Not even anyone getting the food ready. It was all set our when they arrived, but _someone_ had to put it there. She just had no clue who. She swallowed her mouthful of carrots, and asked,"

"So, where is everyone?"

"Well, we just asked them to keep out of the way, so you're not over-whelmed," Harry responded, and starting eating again.

"Oh…" she sighed; she wished that someone would come out. It was so weird to her that everyone was worried that she'd be over-whelmed. How could people over-whelm her? What else could they throw at her that she hadn't already been through?

"Hermione, do you want us to let them come out?" Ron asked, hearing her disappointment.

"Oh! Could you? That'd be great!" she exclaimed and then within a blink of an eye, she heard doors opening and closing, and the clatter of footsteps. Soon a man with almost gray hair, and tattered clothing walked in.

"Remus!" Harry exclaimed, jumping up to greet the man, "You're back already?"

"Well, things happened to work out in my favor," Remus answered, and then turning to Hermione he said, "It is a pleasure to meet you…again."

"Thanks…er, Remus," she replied, just as two arguing figures walked into the room.

"I don't know why you won't listen to me!" a woman, with amazingly pink hair, that kept turning darker by the second, shouted.

"Because you don't have enough experience to know!" a man, with more scars than Hermione could count in a life-time, and a large chunk missing out of his nose, nosily replied.

"Mad-Eye! Tonks! We have a guest, please contain yourselves," Harry commanded, standing up to separate them.

"Sorry Harry. It's just that this old bugger won't listen to a word I'm saying because I'm too "young and inexperienced"."

"Well, you are!" Mad-Eye, which Hermione now understood why he was called that because of his swiveling eye, said.

"Ahem…" Harry coughed.

"Sorry," they replied at once, still glaring at each other.

"Hermione that is Nymphora Tonks," Ron said nodding over at her, whose hair was slowly returning to a light magenta.

"And that is Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody," he finished.

"Pleased to meet you," Hermione answered, wondering if she had known these people in the past.

"Ah! Sorry to tear us away from everyone but Hermione has some very important things she needs to know and we won't have enough time to tell her unless we begin soon," Ron said, standing, and Harry and Hermione quickly followed suit. Ron turned and walked out of the room, through a door that Hermione swore wasn't there before. It led to a flight of winding stairs that went steadily downwards…

* * *

More than a few things were incriminating about the room: 

1.) It took at least 100 stairs to reach it.

2.) The hallway off it was a little less than depressing.

3.) Not to mention the names of the rooms on the hallway. There were none. Upstairs, all labeled, down here. Nada. Zip. Zero.

4.) The door _into _the room. Invisible.

5.) The room itself was all cement, one table, three chairs. One flickering light bulb.

"Before you start, why are we in this particular room? It gives me the creeps," Hermione said as the sat there facing her.

"Well, this is our most secretive room, and some of this information isn't even known to people in the D.A., actually most of it isn't," Harry answered.

"Oh…" Hermione replied nervously, what were they going to tell her?

"Now were would you like us to start?" Ron asked her.

"Why did you act like that when you saw the drawing?"

"Well, that symbol, the snake coming out of the skull, is V-V-Vo-Vo-Vo", Harry interrupted him by hitting him on the back, saying "Get on with it!", "Voldemort's sign. This leads me into, who Vold-Voldemort is. He is the most evil wizard to ever have lived. He is obsessed with power, and he is also the one who erased your memory. I turn this over to Harry to explain, because I was unconscious when this happened."

"Well, I was in a battle with Voldemort. You can Ron were right by my side, getting rid of his followers, called Death Eaters. Ron got knocked out when a Death Eater hit him with a jinx. You and I hexed the rest and they were all lying about. Then it came down to Voldemort and me. Now Voldemort, for reasons I shall later explain, hit you, with a memory erasing spell. He and I fought, and he eventually retreated. I took you and Ron to St. Mungos – the wizarding hospital. The doctors really tried to get your memory back, but they said it was highly unlikely it would ever happen, unless triggered by one specific thing, which was undetermined. So, we gave you your "life" before wizarding, back. And that's how you remember everything. We even made pictures from early times. Then, we followed you, hoping, praying you'd remember, because you knew something very important, and that's why Voldemort wanted your memory gone, he couldn't risk having you around…"

"Wait," Hermione interrupted still trying to process everything, "If he wanted my memory gone, why didn't he just kill me. You said he was evil, he wouldn't care."

"That," Ron said, "leads us to our next point, why you're still alive. Our theory is that he wants you alive so you can join him. He believes that you are one of the greatest witches of all time and that if you were with him, he could kill Harry. But, now, how? How can he get you to join, not willingly, he tried that, by persuading you with that information. Therefore he had to forcefully. So he erased your memory, and waited, and then made his move. If I hadn't intervened when I did, you'd likely be on his side now, plotting Harry's death."

"Okay…" she said after a few minutes of processing, "but I don't understand how he could've "made his move". I've never seen anything that's looked evil. I've never had someone try to persuade me to _become _evil. How could he have "made his move"?"

"Oh, that's easy, by having you marry him."

* * *


	7. Chapter Seven

Author's Note: Know what sucks? Writers block. I happened to suffer from a case of it, and that is partly to blame for my delay of updating, but not completely. So, I will try my hardest to get another chapter out before the new year. Anywho, I hope this chapter will explain more, and leave you with some questions. Thanks for staying loyal, and enjoy the chapter!

**Things Forgotten**

**Chapter Seven**

The stairs seemed even longer on the way up, which was good in a way. It gave Hermione time to think about all that she had found out…

* * *

"That's not possible, I'm not married," Hermione stated as-a-matter-of-factly.

"Yes, but you are engaged," Ron replied.

"I am, but not to an evil wizard. I'm engaged to Chris! He went to pre med-school _and _med-school with me. I've known him for 4 years. Wouldn't I be able to tell if he was evil?" she questioned.

"Yes, and you did. You noticed the fact that he suddenly was very worried about where you were and who you were with. You also noticed that he had written the dark mark on a piece of paper. You did notice, you just didn't know what it meant," said Ron.

"But…he was never, like that before. He couldn't have just suddenly become evil. You said that Volde, Volda, Vold…whatever his name is, has been around for a long time, before we and Chris for that matter, were born," Hermione answered, trying to find away around the truth.

"Well, he isn't actually Voldemort in the flesh. He has his spirit in him, taking his body over."

"So, he is possessing Chris?"

"No," Harry answered, stepping back into the conversation, "he's kind of like, switching bodies with him. Chris's soul is in Voldemort's body, and Voldemort's soul is in Chris's body."

"But wouldn't Chris say something once Voldemort switched there bodies back?"

"He did," Harry responded.

"But he didn't tell me-" Hermione began.

"I never said that he told you anything," he replied.

"Then he told…" she said, feeling terribly confused, and yet understanding completely.

"Me," Harry finished for her.

* * *

She was still quite depressed that she didn't figure out what was wrong with Chris earlier. I mean he'd seemed a little off before, she thought, why did she say anything? Because you just thought he was ill, or tired or concerned. Hermione shook these thoughts again from her mind and returned again to the dungeon conversation as she slowly made her way up the steps.

* * *

"Don't bother asking anything more about that, I'll just explain," Harry said, and taking a deep breath he continued, "Chris is a squib, which is someone whose parents have magical powers, but they are powerless. I've known him since about right before you lost your memory. He learned about Dumbledore's Army and was willing to help out. Squibs are very useful to us, they can find out information or watch people, as in your case. Anyways, after you lost your memory we needed someone to watch out for you, to make sure Voldemort didn't try to kill you or worse take you. So, I got Chris on the job. He was only supposed to watch you, and become your friend, but you too hit it off, and well, you know how it ended up. Anyways, there were no signs of Voldemort until a year into your romance with Chris, when he switched bodies with him to, we guess, see if we'd made any attempts to contact you or revive your memory. After he'd switched back Chris suddenly had to go see his "sick aunt" if you remember. He'd come to us and told us about it. We figured that until it happened more frequently or for longer periods of time, not to worry. Once that started to happen, we sent Ron in and tried to get you to remember as quickly as possible. That has worked quite well, as you can see."

"Oh." she said a period of time later, still trying to wrap her mind around everything, "Could I ask one more question?"

"As many as you'd like," Ron responded.

"What does the dark mark mean? You've told me it's "his symbol" but that can't be enough to instate all of the fear and hopelessness I felt when I saw it."

"I'm not sure if you want to know," Ron said softly, sounding very concerned.

"I do, I need to know why. Please tell me," she pleaded.

"Okay," Ron said, and let out a breath, "the dark mark means that a murder has just been committed. It's kind of like a bragging right that he has. It can be used by him or his followers."

"But, why would Chris…I mean Voldemort, draw the dark mark in my kitchen?"

"That is something I have no clue about, but as we get more information, and as you remember more, we can easily piece it together. There isn't anything about the symbol, any memories, that you have remembered, is there?" Ron questioned, knowing the truth, but wanting her to reassure him.

"No, nothing at all," she lied looking down. Hermione just couldn't tell him and hated not telling him but, it just didn't feel right. She felt that if she told him, it would lead to something terrible.

* * *

"Phew, the way up always does seem to take a bit longer," Ron said once they had reached the top, between intakes of breath.

"That I do agree to," Harry replied grinning. After a few minutes of rest he walked through the door which the D.A. members had hours before come out of. They walked down a short, brightly lit, corridor and at the end he stopped saying, "Your room is just up these steps. I have some business to attend to, but Ron will show you the way."

* * *

"Oh, okay, if you're sure," he replied a bit sadly.

"I am," Hermione answered, still not daring to look up.

"So, are you terribly confused from all of this?" Harry asked her after a few moments of silence.

"A bit," she replied with a smile, "…is that all for now? I just realized how tired I am and I don't think I can take in any more information now anyways."

"If you're good, then so are we, but just remember – tell no one of this. If you have any questions or concerns ask Ron or I. Understood?"

"Yes, I won't tell anyone, I swear," Hermione answered, not realizing that this was a promise she would fail to keep.

"Alright then, we're done here. After you Hermione," Harry said and followed her down the corridor.

* * *

After they had climbed a much shorter distance than the previous one, Ron led her down a small passage with brightly colored wallpaper. They ended up next to a door conveniently labeled – Hermione's Room.

"I hope everything will be up to your standards; if it's not, just let us know. Someone's always up in this house. Well, erm…goodnight then," he said and turned. Hermione longingly stared at the back of his head as he made his way down the hall. She was inclined to run after him, but she held herself back. She didn't realize, as she turned towards the door, that it was the last time she would be seeing him for a long time.


	8. Chapter Eight

Authors Note: First off- my _extreme _apologies to all of my readers (if you are still reading this). I had intentionally planned to get this out before 2007...but then it was Christmas and I went to see my cousins. Then I got back and it was New Years, and then I had to go back to school. I was going to put it out in January, but just before I put it out I re-read the chapter and it didn't feel right, so I deleted the whole thing, and restarted. In the process of writing this chapter I've mapped out the rest of the story and alas, sadly, the end. So, hopefully I won't have to re-write any more chapters (note hopefully) , but enough of my babbling, I will just let you read on:

**Things Forgotten  
**

**Chapter Eight**

"You don't understand…" a raspy, pleading voice said, "I have lost a part of me with every single horcrux. I'm getting weaker every day, but I cannot suffer another separation."

"What do you mean by separation?" Hermione asked inquisitively at the figure bent over in front of her.

"The creation of another horcrux is what I mean. If I made another I wouldn't be able to take it, and would die. So, that's why I'm been switching bodies with the man, to enable my soul to get out of this body, this body weakened my battles and curses, and into another, another stronger, young, body. Soon, I will make the switch permanent and forever remain in a different shell, but I need assistance. I need the most powerful witch. So, join me Hermione Granger, join me, and you shall have all the power you've ever dreamed of, all the power you deserve."

"Never," she replied briskly.

"But do you understand what I'm offering? I'm offering power. Power is what we all want in this world, and I'm giving you the chance to have all the power you want. Don't turn this offer down, or you'll be sorry."

"I'm sorry then, but I cannot help you."

"WHAT?" the figure said, and turned around to reveal a face so racked with evil, a face so cold, that Hermione now understood why he was called He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

* * *

Hermione sat bolt upright, breathing heavily, and pushed off the covers. She turned her head to look at the clock – 5:38 AM. She'd only gotten a few hours of sleep, but it would have to do. She slowly made her way around the room, getting ready for the day. _What was that?_ She thought to herself. _It was a dream…but it was so much more real than that, it felt as it I'd been there…but it couldn't have been me in real life, could it have?_ She paused for a moment, wondering about this, before she reassured herself that it was probably just another dream, and because she was in such a deep sleep it seemed real. It wasn't a memory, not at all, just a dream.

* * *

As she entered the dining room, she was surprised to see Lupin there, with a cup of coffee, a pad of paper, and a grim expression. 

"Hello, sorry, am I interrupting something?" she asked hesitantly in the doorway.

"Oh, no, nothing, I'm just…trying to figure some things out. Sit, sit," he answered, and conjured up a cup of coffee as she sat down.

"Oh thank you, so why are you up?"

"I was about to ask you the same question," he said with a small smile, "but, I'm up because I was called out for a duty and I couldn't seem to fall back asleep when I returned."

"Oh, I see, may I inquire as to what you were doing?"

"It was just a routine dispatching. I had to go out and make sure Ron was alright on his way back to London," he replied and took a sip of his coffee.

"Oh," Hermione replied looking down. _How could he leave?_ She wondered. _Who else am I suppose to talk about my…dream with? What am I suppose to _do_ here?_

"Do you know when he'll be back?"

"Not really sure," Lupin said.

"Do you know what he's doing?"

"I do, but I don't know if I'm allowed to tell you, you'll have to ask Harry about that one. Speaking of Harry…"

"Hello Hermione, Lupin, sleep well?" Harry questioned as he entered the room, and sat down.

"Yes, thanks," Hermione said and Lupin answered in the same fashion.

"Oh, well, I must be going…I have to, get some things ready…for tonight. So I'll see you two later then," Lupin said abruptly and walked out. Hermione sat there, slowly sipping her coffee, trying to push out the words that she knew she had to say.

"Harry…" she finally said after minutes of an awkward silence, "why's Ron gone?"

"How do you-?" he asked, "Lupin. Got it, well he is off in London doing a mission for the D.A."

"Yes, I know that, but what is he doing there?"

"He's…ah…well, I don't know if this is the best time to tell you but…he's gone to watch after Chris, and if all goes well, bring him back soon…" Hermione watched Harry as he explained the rest of Ron's journey and when they may be back, and how they'd stop Voldemort from possessing him, and so on. _Chris and Ron, here, together…_ she thought. _Could I handle that? I feel such a connection with Ron, but then there's Chris…he's just so perfect… but he was meant to be that way, to get close to you, no he wasn't suppose to get engaged to me, but he was suppose to get close to you, so, it doesn't matter…_

"Hermione? Are you listening?" Harry asked her as she stared off into space, her thoughts fighting with each other in her head.

"Wh-? Oh, yes, yes…I am. Thanks for telling me everything Harry, I really appreciate it."

"My pleasure, but anyways, will you answer my question please?"

"Erm…what was it again?" she asked with a nervous smile.

"Would you like to help me today? We're just going to be doing a routine check of the rooms, but you'd see a lot and it might help you remember."

"Oh yes, that sounds fantastic," she replied happily.

"Good, let's go then."

* * *

A puff of orange smoke came up from the cauldron, as Hermione added the root to it. 

"Okay Harry, these ingredients are fine, but the cauldron is a little rusty."

"You're done already?" he questioned, looking up from his own cauldron, where he still was just adding the first ingredient, "I should've known. You were always the first one done in potions at Hogwarts."

"Hogwarts?" she asked.

"Oh right, I forgot you don't remember that. Hogwarts was where we met, it was our school and home for 6 years…" he answered and got a day-dreamy expression on his face.

"I see…so this school, is it near? Could I visit it and maybe it would bring back memories, or I could find a book or something. Maybe a wand?" Hermione asked eagerly. She was desperate for something to help her remember. She hated not knowing…not knowing what was real, and what was just a dream…

"It is near, but it's not somewhere you'd want to go. It's been closed for a good number of years now…ever since we left, and it hasn't re-opened."

"Oh, I'm sorry…"

"Don't be, it's my fault really…if I could only kill Voldemort this could all end…but he can't die, or I'm not strong enough to kill him…or there's something keeping him alive and as long as he's alive, Hogwarts stays closed."

"Oh..." she answered and a pang of guilt went through her. _Maybe I should tell him about the dream…_ She thought, _but how would that help him? It was talking about a horcrux thing…not killing Voldemort, but what about the other memory…the one triggered by the dark mark. No, I've already told him about that. I _could_ tell him about the feeling, about the lightning and the meteors… _

"Um, Harry, is it common for certain, erm, colors, to be associated with bad things in the wizarding world?"

"What do you mean? Like spells? Certain spells and charms do have colors. Why? Are you…remembering something?" he asked and walked over to her.

"Well…_just tell him, you can trust him, Ron trusts him…_, I did remember it, I think. It was the first day I met Ron. There was a report of red lighting and green meteors in the sky…and I know that sounds stupid, but it just seemed like…like it meant something bad," she said cautiously.

"What do you mean bad?" he asked.

"Well, I mean I think it's happened before, I think it has something to do with Voldemort."

"But, he is…he's been…you mean to say he's killing again?" Harry questioned sitting down, and running a hand through his hair.

"Killing? No, no, no, there was no dark mark. You said only the dark mark means he's killed," Hermione inquired.

"Yes, it does, but this is bigger than that. This means that Voldemort has found his final piece, the one thing that remains between him, and me."

"What's the final piece?" she asked in a hushed tone, already knowing the answer, but wishing that it wasn't true.

"You."

* * *


End file.
